Mercy
by singsongsung
Summary: Ca/S. C/B. "He set out to corrupt her, but on reflection, he began to realize that it very well may have been that she corrupted him."
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **This is a little bit AU and written in a bit more of an old-school way than I usually do things, but I don't think it requires much explanation. This chapter is a bit of a prologue, setting things up, but you should know that the primary focus of this story will be Ca/S, followed closely by CB, with an emphasis on UES society and the rivalry between Carter and Chuck. With all of that said, enjoy, and please review! :)

**Mercy**

_It makes my blood run cold, the things they say to one another._

-- Gone With the Wind

--

Manhattan, with its iconic skyline - the liner, powerful lines of business towers, some of which had been produced by his family's extensive legacy, piercing the sun as it set in the sky – was his birthplace, but it had been a long time (many girls, scams, adventures, and business deals) since Carter Baizen had considered it his home.

He was returning reluctantly, for a necessary meeting, and he planned on boarding his private jet at nine o'clock the next morning, heading home to Dubai via London, and never looking back. It was grudgingly that he had flown halfway around the world today in the first place; the trip felt mildly useless and was sure to be an annoyance considering the only reason he was touching down on New York soil was to meet with the man – the _boy_, really – who might be described as his nemesis: Charles Bass.

There had been a time when Carter had taken Chuck under his wing, had introduced him to the lifestyle of brilliant debauchery they'd both perfected – Chuck having done so to a lesser degree, of course. But as they grew older, their interests differed, and Carter had left Chuck behind in New York City, moving on to bigger and better things in other parts of the world. He was a nomad by nature, whereas Chuck had always, for some reason, kept Manhattan as his home base. Over time, they would run into each other now and again, their encounters becoming more and more confrontational, and now they tended to fully avoid one another.

Their family history, however, was irrevocably tied. So when Charles' father, Bartholomew Bass, a Manhattan mogul, passed away in a tragic car accident, Carter only knew it was courteous to take a meeting with the heir to the Bass fortune. Besides, from what he had heard, Bart's recent marriage to Lily van der Woodsen had been outwardly perfect but inwardly tense and may have even resulted in Lily having an affair with an old sweetheart from her rebellious youth who was now playing an important role in her life in the aftermath of her husband's death. There were also rumours – albeit unconfirmed ones – that Chuck was dating, _dating_, Blair Waldorf, whom Carter heard was a beautiful, wealthy, and intelligent socialite. With a potentially unfaithful stepmother, new siblings to divide up inheritance with, and lawyers and investors lecturing him, Carter figured Chuck was owed this meeting despite their personal vendettas against one another – and stealing away a pretty girl certainly wouldn't be an occurrence he'd protest against.

By the time his limo glided to a stop outside the _Palace_ hotel, it was nearly completely dark in the city. He stepped out and into the hotel, nodding dismissively to the doorman as he strode briskly toward the elevators. Due to his late arrival in America, Chuck had asked that they meet in his family suite rather than at his father's office, and Carter had readily agreed.

As he stepped into the Bass suite, he caught sight of a large _Prada_ sign in his peripheral vision, his gaze drifting over a staircase and a few pieces of expensive furniture and artwork before his eyes settled on Chuck, who was sitting near the fire, a glass of scotch in his hands and a faraway look in his eyes.

He cleared his throat. "Chuck," he said lowly, stepping forward and opening his mouth once again, preparing to offer his condolences.

At that moment, before he could make his way across the room, a pretty brunette brushed past him, drifting across the room toward Chuck, her small hand settling comfortably on his shoulder. Her eyes flicked over Carter's face in a way similar to the gaze he'd just bestowed on the doorman.

"Who's this, darling?" she purred, settling on the armrest of his chair, Chuck's arm slipping easily around her waist to steady her there and keep her close. Their expressions were carefully unconcerned, eerily matched, and it occurred to Carter then that their clothing – her deep magenta dress and the colour of the pattern on his tie – were also a perfect match to one another.

Chuck inclined his head toward were Carter stood. "Carter Baizen; meet –"

"Blair Waldorf," he interjected easily, pacing forward to grasp her free hand, bending to brush his lips to her skin. She pulled away the moment he straightened up again, unhurriedly, hand floating to rest on her lap.

"A pleasure to meet you," she sighed politely. She was beautiful, to be sure: entirely proper and almost regal, but there was wittiness dancing in her brown eyes and coquettish quality to her smile that made him think there were other sides to her, sides that perhaps only Chuck was privy to. He could sense that her shell of propriety and elegance would be a hard one to crack…and he was slightly alarmed to realize he had no real desire to take up the task, except, perhaps, to annoy Chuck, who was watching him closely.

"Go home," the new Bass billionaire murmured to Blair, lips brushing over her jawbone. "I'll see you in the morning." Her eyes flickered toward Carter as a subtle frown tugged at her lips, causing Chuck to smirk. "_Go_."

"Call me," she replied, just as softly, standing up and reaching for her purse, which was sitting on one of the couches.

"Miss Waldorf," Carter said, just slightly mischievous, as she walked past him.

Her smile was made of steel. "Mr. Baizen."

He watched her go, glancing over her shoulder once before she stepped into the elevator, before turning to Chuck and allowing himself a sly smirk. "She's got a nice –" He almost laughed at the death stare that found him, holding up his hands in surrender. "Smile. She has a nice smile."

It was clear that Chuck was resisting the urge to roll his eyes. "Sit. We're here to discuss business; and let's make it quick, I'm tired."

Unbuttoning his blazer, Carter made himself comfortable on the couch where Blair's purse had just been placed. "It must be a hard time," he said, more quietly and much more sincerely.

"It's been over a month," Chuck replied brusquely without meeting his eyes. "I've adjusted." He smiled bitterly. "It hasn't really been that much of a change."

Carter let the comment slide, understanding that this was sensitive territory, and leaned back. "What business do we have to discuss, then?"

Chuck's eyes found his face, focusing clearly for the first time, and it startled Carter – how he looked very much like the eleven-year-old who he'd bestowed with his first joint, and also so grown up, like his father. "You didn't read the _file_ I _specifically_ sent to you?"

He grinned. "Who _reads_ things?"

Bass's eyes flashed and he sighed, pressing his lips together as if trying to quell a smile. "Irresponsible as ever, aren't you, Baizen?"

"I wouldn't use that exact word…"

Chuck leaned forward, propping his elbows on his legs. "The Goodsworth building downtown –"

"The one you're renovating?" Carter asked, leaning forward as well, intrigued.

"Yes. You – or at least, your family – "

"I don't have a lot of contact with my family."

Clearly, Chuck didn't appreciate his interruptions. "Well, I believe you are the one _responsible_ for the fact that your family has invested in the renovations."

Carter's eyebrows flew up; he was almost impressed. "And you're updating me on the progress of these mysterious renovations of yours?"

With an abrupt shake of his head, Chuck corrected: "No. I'm updating you to inform you that I am no longer interested in your family's investments."

"Excuse me?"

"This is my first project," he said intensely. "I need to make this work to prove myself to the board. To my _uncle_," he said with a sneer, adding with a bit less disdain, "And to my stepmother."

"Ah, _yes_," Carter replied, choosing to ignore Chuck's idiotic request for the time being as he smiled broadly. "How _is_ the family?"

Closing his eyes, Chuck pressed his fingers to his temples. "_Business_, Baizen."

"It's awfully quiet here," Carter continued as if the other man hadn't spoken, "I was under the impression that this was your _family's_ suite."

He could see Chuck's expression shift as he simply decided to give in, that it would be easier simply to answer questions. "Lily is…out for the evening," he muttered, allowing Carter to draw his own conclusions. "And her children are asleep."

"Baby-sitting?" Carter inquired cheerfully.

Having had enough, Chuck slammed his fist down onto the delicate coffee table. "I want you to withdraw your investments."

"What about the money?"

"I've prepared. The board has helped me find new investors."

"Reluctantly, I'm sure."

"That's none of your business," Chuck replied evenly, his gaze steady. "The point is that I intend for this venture to be successful. And when it is, I do not want to be indebted to you in _any_ way."

"That's rather hostile," he said dryly, eyebrows arched.

"I'm sure you can find something useless to spend that money on," Chuck responded disdainfully, sitting back in his chair and glancing back at the fireplace.

Mimicking him, Carter relaxed as well. "I'm fairly certain you can't _force_ me to withdraw."

Narrowing his eyes, Chuck ordered, "Don't make this difficult."

He couldn't resist chuckling.

Chuck clenched his jaw. "This could be easy. Withdraw without any trouble and buy a ticket somewhere. Go climb a mountain or something." His lips twitched. "And feel free to _fall_."

Carter clucked his tongue casually, wearing an easy smile that was known to infuriate. "Now, _Charles_.You should know by now that trouble…is what I do _best_."

"I want you _out_ of my deal. And preferably, out of the country."

He stood up slowly, levelling Chuck with his stare. He could not be shaken that easily, and despite what Bass Industries' board probably thought, Chuck had a fairly good head for business and was clearly determined – his mysterious downtown project was bound to be a success, and Carter wanted to be involved. "You'll be hearing from my lawyers," he said with a lazy sigh, glancing around the room once more, searching for family photos or some touch of _home_, but there was nothing to be found.

Chuck shot to his feet, fists clenched. "You can't _force_ me to accept your money, Baizen."

Same easy smile in place, Carter shrugged, unbothered. "Watch me," he replied smoothly. Smoothing out his facial expression, he added with considerably more kindness: "I'm very sorry for your loss. Give my regards to the family."

He strode over to the elevator slowly and carelessly, aware that Chuck was seething behind him. For years, Carter had had the upper hand, and he intended to maintain it. Just as he reached out to press the button to summon it, the doors slid open with nothing more than a hiss, relieving a girl who nearly ran right into him on her way out.

Instinctively, he reached out to steady her, to keep her from falling. She was wearing a short, body-hugging golden dress that seemed to sparkle even in the dim light of the hallway. She was clearly intoxicated, and barefoot, expensive but scuffed-up shoes dangling from her fingertips; her hair was loose and wild and he couldn't seem to take all of her in at once. Glancing up at him from underneath long eyelashes, she shot him a brief, sultry smile before giggling lightly and slipping away, toward the staircase.

Not wanting to call attention to himself, he stepped into the elevator, but he couldn't resist glancing back over his shoulder. When her feet hit the top step, Chuck called out to her, his voice low as he approached her slowly, eyes dark. She could only have been another conquest of his, though she seemed to be Blair Waldorf's polar opposite; she exuded mischief, obvious in the wink she cast in Chuck's direction as he moved toward her, but despite this wild streak, there was something sweet, almost warm, about her.

The elevator doors slid shut just as Chuck reached out to her, his fingers encircling her wrist lightly – maybe even intimately – and Carter felt a sudden rush of jealousy burn through his body. He wished he had left a moment or two later, had seen her for longer, had been able to watch them interact. As he stepped out into the night he caught sight of flickering lights; they reminded him of her eyes.

"To the airport?" his driver asked, swinging open the door of his limo and allowing him to slip inside.

He paused, considering. "No. Take me to the_ Downing_. It seems that Chuck and I will need to meet again."

The door closed, granting him the privacy to loosen his tie and lean back on the leather seats, eyes focused on the city streets outside the tinted windows. He'd been reluctant to come back to the city, but it now seemed like a necessary move; after all, he had to make sure to remain involved in the Bass project.

And, if time permitted – it certainly would, he was sure of it – he was going to steal away one very gorgeous girl.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: **Thank you so much for your reviews! This chapter is the second step in setting things up and fleshing out the relationship Carter and Chuck have, but I promise that there is plenty of CB and CaS to come, starting next chapter. Remember that this is a bit AU, so the relationships between _everyone_ have changed – including Serena & Dan and Rufus & Lily.

**Chapter Two**

_What do I have to do to satisfy you? Become the next victim?_

-- Charade

--

He dreamed of her.

A blur of golden tones and blues, the long legs he'd seen beneath her short dress, and that smile she'd cast in his direction. He woke up twisted in his sheets, sweat beaded on his skin. She'd certainly enchanted him, and made an impression. It was rare that he dreamed, rarer still that he fell asleep thinking of a girl, and unheard of that it would be a girl he'd only set his eyes on for a moment.

Throwing off his blankets, he sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and trying to clear his head. He had his lawyers to call and business to attend to – girls were an important part of his life, but no one girl had ever taken prevalence over anything else.

And he definitely wasn't going to let some girl he'd glimpsed for half a minute last night distract him from driving Chuck Bass just a little bit crazy.

--

"We could argue this, yes?" Carter murmured, flipping through the document one of his family's lawyers had handed him moments earlier.

He received a dubious look from the older man sitting across the table, who looked irritated to have had to attend the meeting in the first place. "Really, Carter – why don't you just give this up? This project of Bass's is a joke; you're more likely to lose money than to gain a cent. I've already spoken to your father. He wants to let this investment go, to withdraw. _Chuck is providing you with a way out_," he concluded firmly and slowly, as if he doubted Carter's ability to understand him, which he probably did.

"You spoke to my father?" Carter asked, blinking innocently and taking advantage of his distracting sentence to digest the lawyer's oversimplified words.

Mr. Coghan let out a long, exasperated sigh, exchanging a frustrated glance with Mr. Riley as he pinched the bridge of his nose tiredly. "Yes. I did. He suggests this deal be let go as soon as possible. There are better things to invest money in, Carter." His eyes lit up. "In fact, I'm sure your father would be happy to let you have a portion of this investment money –"

"How _is_ my dear old dad?" Carter inquired, interrupting. "Or better yet," he added with a chuckle, "_Where_ is he? Last time we spoke I believe it was Morroco…"

Mr. Coghan's hands were balled into fists, so Mr. Legere took over. "Your father is back in Dubai, Carter. Has been for quite some time. Now, about this investment; it'd be best to withdraw, yes? I'll have the paperwork drawn up today –"

"Funny how he never stopped by to see," Carter murmured reflectively, thumbing through the document once again, ignoring the roomful of lawyers who would rather not be dealing with him.

"Carter," snapped Mr. Volker, who had remained silent until that point. "Your father has made the decision to withdraw the investment in Chuck Bass's project. The paperwork will be drawn up this evening; you'll sign it and then carry on with…whatever antics you get up to." He paused, taking a deep breath and plastering on a strangled smile. "_Alright_?"

He sat up in his chair, slowly allowing himself to make eye contact with each of the lawyers in the room, knowing just how steely his gaze was. "I believe my father put me in _charge_ of this particular project."

They all stifled their sighs and nodded.

"Well, then. I believe the final decision is _mine_, is it not?"

Looking sufficiently berated, the four lawyers exchanged mildly exasperated looks once more.

"Yes, Mr. Baizen," Mr. Coghan replied formally. "It is."

In that moment, Carter felt the strangest thing: a sense of kinship with Charles Bass. He knew that somewhere across this city, Chuck was sitting in a similar office with a similar group of men who were close to his father, fighting to prove himself as someone with a mind for business rather than just parties, trying to make something of himself.

Swallowing hard, he nodded, handing back the document he was holding carefully. "Great, so we'll argue this," he muttered distractedly, pulling his jacket from the back of his chair and standing to go. "Gentlemen," he said with a nod by way of farewell.

--

In his limo once again, on the way back to his hotel, he couldn't help but dwell on the feeling he'd just experienced. It had been so long since he and Chuck had really allowed themselves to relate to one another, despite the fact that they were actually rather similar people.

It occurred to him then, in the middle of New York City traffic, that if he channelled the sentiment he'd felt during his meeting and presented that side of himself to Chuck, a version of himself that understood, that really _believed_ in this venture, it'd be far easier to win the Bass heir over than if he stormed into Chuck's office with a slew of legal documents. It would be far easier, and far more _profitable_, far simpler to prove his own self, if he somehow managed to convince Chuck that he was on his side.

She crept into the back of his mind, blonde hair and liquor on her breath and so much mystery he longed to figure out. To gain Chuck's trust, he'd probably have to give her up, he knew.

But, he thought, as the car lurched forward again, but _maybe_, he could convince Chuck to trust him, make some money, show his father exactly what he was made of, and figure out exactly what was behind that smile she'd shot him the night before, it might really mean making something out of his life, and getting all the things he'd wanted but never really let him go after.

He pressed the button that allowed him to communicate with his driver.

"The _Palace_," he said. "I've got another meeting to go to."

--

He strode into the Bass suite as if he owned it, eyes bright and smile in place. In the daylight, it didn't seem like such an impersonal place: the curtains were open and sunshine filled the spacious rooms, there was a pink sweater that appeared to have been shrugged off lying on the couch, and he could hear the sounds of cutlery against dishes and quiet conversation coming from deeper within the suite. Instinctively, he moved toward the noise.

To his surprise, he stumbled upon a large table on which there was no space due to the array of breakfast foods laid out on it, two adults and two teenagers – one of whom was Chuck, sitting dutifully with his jaw clenched as he reached for his orange juice – were sitting. The girl sitting across from Chuck had blonde hair and excessive eyeliner around her pretty eyes, a hesitant smile playing on her lips as she cut up her waffles. The adults – one of whom was Lily van der Woodsen – were sitting close together, their voices quiet but encouraging as they spoke. There were four additional empty chairs at the table and a distinct absence in the room: people were missing.

The man sitting next to Lily was the first to spot Carter, his brow furrowing in confusion at the sight. There was something _off_ about him, with his earnest brown eyes and plaid shirt, something that did not belong in this apartment. He must have been Lily's lover, Carter could only assume, and it was probably his presence that allowed things like sweaters thrown on couches and waffles on the breakfast table rather than crepes.

Chuck turned, nearly choking on a raspberry when he spotted him. "What are you _doing_ here?" he asked rudely.

Before Carter could tease him about his offensive tone, an elderly woman who exuded class and Chanel No. 5 drifted into the room elegantly. "Charles, your tone. At least invite the poor young man to sit down."

Glowering from the chastisement he clearly couldn't ignore, Chuck gritted his teeth and levelled Carter with his gaze. "Would you like to join us?" he ground out.

The woman, whom Carter now recognized well, laughed lightly, as if Chuck was nothing more than a troublesome child. "_Carter_," she said warmly. "What a delight to see you."

Lily laughed, lips spreading into a smile as Cece van der Woodsen kissed the air by both of his cheeks. Lily stood, repeating the action. "Carter Baizen," she said, looking him over approvingly. "The last I heard, you were in a bit of a…situation, in Dubai."

He shot her a winning smile, enjoying the irritated nature of Chuck's expression. "It's all resolved now," he replied smoothly. "I'm so sorry," he added formally, "for your loss. And for invading your family breakfast."

"Thank you," Lily replied softly, sincerely. "And don't be silly; as Charles said, you simply must join us."

"We would have sent you an invite, Carter, if we had known you were in the city," Cece informed him, smiling approvingly when he pulled her chair out for her.

"It was an…impromptu visit."

Lily shot him an indulgent smile. "Of course."

"Look at you," Cece interjected, sipping her tea as she eyed his suit and tea. "It looks like you've seen the error of your ways. Risen like a phoenix from the ashes," she joked, praise clear in her tone, and Carter smirked at the sight of the death grip Chuck has on his knife.

"Oh, I'm being so rude," Lily gasped, touching the arm of the man who sat beside her. "Carter Baizen; Rufus Humphrey. And this is his daughter, Jenny," she added, a sweet smile lighting up her face.

The younger girl waved at him across the table, regarding him inquisitively. Carter could tell that she sensed that he and Chuck were not on the best of terms, but that didn't seem to bother her.

Carter reached over to shake Rufus' hand and returned Jenny's wave. "Pleasure to meet you," he told them both as the help poured him a steaming mug of coffee.

"Tell me, how is your family?" Cece asked earnestly. She'd always adored him for some reason, and Carter had always appreciated it.

Before he could reply, a boy about Chuck's age walked into the dining room, commenting eagerly, "Waffles!"

Cece's lips formed a thin line as the boy took his seat next to Jenny, and Carter had to resist allowing his lips to form a smirk that would have rivalled Chuck's. This was clearly Rufus' son.

"Dan," Jenny said with a gentle kind of familiarity – she was his sister, of course, Carter realized – inclining her head toward where he was sitting. "This is Carter. Um, Mr. Baizen?" she fumbled, cheeks turning a faint shade of pink.

"Carter," he said with a nod, shooting her a reassuring smile as he stood to shake Dan's hand. "Nice to meet you, man."

"You too…man," Dan replied with a touch of uncertainty. There was something about him that appeared resolute, set on making sure everything worked out and everyone was happy in the end, but Carter could tell that Daniel Humphrey was intimidated by him.

"How long are you in town, Carter?" Cece asked optimistically, barely glancing at Dan. "Long enough to have a proper meal with us?" she added, glancing at the brunch-type foods on the table disdainfully.

Just as he opened his mouth to reply, a younger boy, hair perfectly gelled, walked into the room. There was definitely something more personal and familial about the suite when it was filled with all these strangely related people – and even more so in the presence of the younger teenager. Every person at the table, even Chuck, looked up and smiled when he entered.

"Waffles again!" he declared cheerfully, with just the slightest bit of disappointment hidden away carefully in his words. "Looks great, Rufus," he added, taking his seat and shooting Carter a kindly curious look that faded into wariness at Chuck's warning glance.

"Eric, darling, before you get comfortable – "

"Mom, just let me finish my waffle," he sighed, slouching in his chair.

"Was that Jonathon?" Jenny piped up with a knowing smile, digging her elbow into Eric's ribs. "On the phone?"

"Don't interrupt, Jen," Rufus scolded her lightly, eyes slipping toward Cece.

"Honey," Lily said apologetically, still focused on her son. Carter took a bite of the waffle in front of him while she spoke. It wasn't bad, exactly, but unfamiliar. "Will you please go get your –"

At that moment all movement in the dining room seemed to freeze, and he almost choked on his bite of chocolate chip waffle as the girl from last night, fresh-faced and wearing a loose white shirt paired tucked into a high-waisted skirt, waltzed into the room, her smile illuminating it even more than the sunlight had managed to do. Her hair was partially braided, falling over her shoulders as she said, "Good morning, everyone," gaily, pausing to ruffle Eric's hair affectionately.

Carter set down his fork, unable to do anything but watch her – watch the way she bumped her hip playfully against Dan's chair as she shot Jenny a smile, the one-hundred-watt smile Cece bestowed upon her as she moved, and the easy way she swept Chuck's champagne glass full of orange juice out of his hands and leaned against his chair, perching precariously on the thin arm of it.

"Thank you for _finally_ gracing us with your presence," Lily commented dryly, eyebrows resting high on her forehead in a maternal show of irritation.

"Of course you show up when we're finished," Dan contributed, shaking his head in fond exasperation.

His head was spinning – she was beautiful, and he could smell her perfume, and he couldn't comprehend why everyone in the room seemed so comfortable and…_loving_, in her presence. Was she Chuck's _girlfriend_? Was his alleged relationship with Blair some sort of publicity stunt? This blonde girl clearly had meaning and connections to his entire family, and he was well aware that this new discovery upped the game considerably.

"Oh, Carter, I'm so sorry," Cece interrupted his thoughts as Jenny and Eric argued about what movie to see that afternoon in quiet voices. He fought to keep his composure, aware that she'd caught him staring, and even more aware that _she_ was now looking directly at him with big blue eyes the colour of the deeper part of the ocean.

"Allow me to introduce you," she continued, her voice rising with approval: "This is Serena, my lovely granddaughter. Serena; Carter Baizen."

There was a distinctive buzzing in his ears. Cece's granddaughter, of course. The elderly woman had told him many stories about her and had hinted on multiple occasions that she'd approve of him as a suitor for her daughter's oldest child, but he had never actually _met_ Serena. Of course, on the occasion he did, she _would_ be tumbling back into the suite late at night and somehow manage to invade his slumber, all from an intoxicated smile and a moment of physical contact as he'd steadied her.

The family was clearing out of the dining room: Dan was talking into his cell phone, making a joke to whomever was on the other end of the line; Jenny and Eric were still debating movie choices and begging Rufus to take a limo to the theatre rather than the subway; Lily and Cece were speaking quietly to one another; maids were quickly descending and gathering dishes, hurrying away.

As the others left, and Carter was left alone with the room's two remaining occupants, the last and perhaps most crucial piece of the puzzle snapped into place. He glanced over at Chuck, who seemed to be scrutinizing his every move, one of his hands hovering in the air in case the girl balanced on the arm of his chair toppled over. Serena finished off his orange juice in one gulp, and Chuck accepted the glass from her casually with the hand that had been pre-emptively protecting her just a moment before, as if he'd never had a single concern for her safety and had only wanted his drink back.

"Thanks, Chuck," she commented mischievously, affection obvious in the way she said his name.

"Always, you take the orange juice," he grumbled mutedly, and she giggled, standing up and stooping down, grasping his chin lightly in her hand and planting a kiss on his cheek.

"Thanks for the lecture last night," she whispered sarcastically, but she was clearly touched that he'd cared enough to put the effort into disciplining her in some way.

He grimaced, pulling away from her and wiping at his cheek, and she rolled her eyes and turned to go.

"Nice to see you again, Carter," she tossed over her shoulder, acknowledging him for the first time and throwing him a wink that indicated she remembered the night before. Pausing in the doorway, she asked, "I _can_ call you Carter, can't I?"

Her flirtation was disarming. He was aware of the heat of Chuck's gaze and made a conscious effort not to stare at any part of her, but couldn't help saying: "You can call me whatever you'd like."

For a moment, she didn't move, and he couldn't help but make eye contact. She was studying him, a smile playing over her lips. "I'll keep that in mind," she said softly, baby blues pulsing enticingly before she turned on her heel and slipped away.

Once she was gone, he sighed and dutifully turned back toward Chuck, whose expression was fiery.

"She's your step-sister," Carter murmured, heart pounding.

"My sister," Chuck corrected him, his eyes still blazing and his tone leaving absolutely no room for argument. "My _little_ sister."

The implication was clear. It was one of those universal, unwritten rules: no matter how close or how distant you are with another man, if he doesn't want you near his sister, you _stay away_.

"Well…I never would have guessed," he murmured lamely.

Chuck stood up slowly, leaning down toward him, both hands pressed to the tabletop. "Let me make a few things clear to you, Baizen. Within the next twenty-four hours, you will be out of my business plan, out of my home, out of my city, and out of my sister's vicinity. Now, I believe you can remember the way to the door. I'll tell Cece you had a prior commitment," he added dryly, straightening up. "Wouldn't want her image of you _tarnished_."

Carter stood as well, not enjoying the advantage the height gave Chuck. "I was hoping to speak with you regarding my investment."

"There's nothing to talk about."

"I think there _is_," Carter said pointedly, forcing Chuck to wonder about what he might know.

The other boy gritted his teeth. "Then you ask to see me at my _office_, not at my _home_," he ordered, ignoring the fact that he'd invited Carter over to the suite the previous evening. "Tomorrow morning. I'm free at eleven o'clock. That should give you plenty of time to get yourself home in the afternoon. And for now, you can do the same – leave."

Carter stayed in the dining room for a moment after Chuck walked out without looking back, mulling over what he intended to do. It was clear that Chuck was set in his decisions, and it would take a lot to persuade him. He felt the fight going out of him: was it really, truly worth it to stay, and to take the time to convince Chuck to believe him? His shoulders slumped a bit, and he sighed as he turned to come. Perhaps his family's lawyers were right and he should simply withdraw, not just from the investment, but from all of.

On the way to the elevator, he glanced into the living room and did a double-take. Serena caught his eye, standing in a darker part of the room by herself, leaving against the windowpane and staring down on the city. Her expression was contemplative; a striking look for such a naturally pretty, bubbly girl.

And he knew, in that moment, that he wouldn't give up. Not on her. He _couldn't_.

The game may have drastically changed, several times over the course of the day, but he was all too happy to continue playing.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** Sorry for the wait for this update! I blame swine flu. Reviews are love!

**Chapter Three**

_She's so deliciously low. So horribly dirty_.

-- My Fair Lady

--

Carter sighed into his phone, rubbing his temples wearily. "Well, perhaps you'd like to remind Mr. Bass's lawyers that we have a _contract_," he snapped at his lawyer, flipping his phone shut dismissively. Despite the fact that it was his lawyers, not he, who'd spent most of the day in a meeting with Bass Inc.'s ruthless legal team, he was still exhausted. Chuck was being unbearably stubborn, keeping him in town for much longer than expected, and Carter could feel himself starting to get restless. He'd never been good at staying in one place.

He knew he had to talk to Chuck himself, had to sit down and try to force the boy to see that he could understand, but the mere thought of that conversation was tiring, not to mention utterly frustrating.

It was that thought process which lead him to the bar that had once been one of his most frequented Manhattan haunts. The bar was tucked away and unnamed, free of fifteen-year-old Constance Billard girls anxious to grow up too fast; decorated in red and full of shadows, it had a quiet, old-fashioned atmosphere and served quality liquor.

The moment he walked in the door, he saw her sitting at the bar, eyes drawn to her as if by some magnetic force. Her fingers were dancing down the stem of a martini glass, her hair up off her neck in a messy, wispy bun, her dress with an infinite number of complexly criss-crossed straps across her back. He hesitated only for a millisecond before moving toward her, sitting on the unoccupied stool at her side.

"Hello, beautiful," he greeted her smoothly.

She turned, propping her chin in the palm of her hand, and her smile broke free – slow and sweet – making his day considerably better.

"_Carter_. What a surprise."

He quirked his brow questioningly. "Really? It almost looks like you were waiting for me."

She moved her hand, tucking a couple stray hairs behind her ear, and her smile hardened into a smirk that she'd probably polished after spending so much time with Chuck. Despite this, her voice stayed soft and playful as she teased: "This is _my_ hiding place, mister." She regarded him quietly as he signalled the bartender. "But maybe…I'd hoped it would be yours, too."

His lips twisted; he was determined to disguise the fact that this made him happy. "I would've thought that Chuck would have warned you about me by now."

Mirth flashed in her blue eyes as she spun slightly on her stool, her knee bumping against his leg and resting there. "Chuck is too over-protective. It clouds his judgment," she said dismissively. "_Besides_…" Her eyes caught the light of a candle, glittering fiercely. "Do you really believe that I let him tell me what to do?"

Of course she didn't – it was clear in the way she held herself around him. Serena was the perfect stereotypical blonde girl on the outside, nothing but fluff, but he could have told anyone from their very first meeting and the glance he'd gotten of her eyes that she had a thousand layers beneath. Her life was no fairytale, and she was no damsel in distress.

The bartender set his scotch in front of him and Carter forced himself to focus on the conversation as he took a drink. "He…" Carter paused, clearing his throat. "He seems to really love you."

Serena's eyes slipped to the side, looking at nothing, and her lips pressed tight together for a moment. "He's good to me," she murmured sombrely. "But Chuck and I…" She shrugged, brushing her hair back over her shoulder and learning toward him confidentially. "I think Chuck and I see everything we hate about ourselves in each other sometimes. He doesn't want me making his mistakes."

He smirked in return, almost regretfully, trying to ignore the earnest way her blue orbs pulsed and the gloss that was just begging to be kissed off her lips. "As much as it pains me to admit this…I think you should know that Chuck and I are…"

"Basically the same person?" she asked, barely holding giggles back.

He winced as if her words caused him physical pain. "_Similar_," he corrected her firmly. "I was going to say _similar_." He smiled cautiously, eyes raking over her face. "You don't see the things you hate about yourself in me? You must."

She blinked slowly, as if trying to absorb everything there was to see of him. Carefully, she shook her head from side to side and daringly met his gaze straight-on. "No. I see the things…the things I want to fix. And some of the things that I like most of all."

He could have kissed her then. He wanted to – _god_, he wanted to. But something about her, besides that perpetual mischievous quality in her smile, told him he needed to take this slow.

Serena tilted her head slightly, and it was only then that he realized he was leaning into her a bit, and made an effort to straighten his back. "May I ask you a question?" she murmured. After he nodded, she took a moment to think it over, eyes dancing across his face. "You won't lie to me?"

"I give you my word."

She laughed, light and airy, causing something to stir within his chest. "I hear that's not worth much."

Carter smirked, resisting the temptation to reach out and rest his hand over hers. "It is. Here. And with you," he promised her, wondering if that will count for anything. The words left his mouth so simply, without him having to think about them.

"Why with me?"

His smirk softened a bit, eased into something more intimate, but he didn't answer. "I thought you were the one who was going to ask me the questions."

She traced her finger slowly against the surface of the bar. "Are you serious about this? _Truly_ serious about wanting to be invested in Chuck's project? Or are you creating all this drama just to goad him?"

"A bit of both," he joked.

Her eyes flicked up to his face, serious in the way they'd been the other day when he'd seen her staring out her living room window, deep in thought with the mid-morning sun on her skin. "He's my brother, Carter," she told him, leaving no room for argument.

And he understood. She was clearly intrigued by him, and he'd _heard_ things about Serena van der Woodsen, wild spirit hidden behind the money and propriety her surname conveyed. He could feel something like sparks in the air between them, an energy that was willing to turn into something more, but he knew at that moment that she had her morals, her values – non-traditional ones, perhaps, but she was making it clear what mattered most to her. Chuck Bass was her brother, and no matter how much they fought, it was obvious to Carter that Serena's loyalty lay, first and foremost, with Chuck.

He leaned toward her, let his hand fall casually to her knee. Nothing in her expression indicated how she felt about that movement, so he didn't pull away. He didn't want to lie to her, but she was beautiful and just mysterious enough that he longed to figure her out, and in addition to helping his plan along, this would bring him closer to her. So he exhaled, looked into her bright blue eyes, and said: "I'm serious. I promise you."

She looked hesitant to believe him – so she was smart, too, behind those short skirts and that blonde hair – and rightly so. He locked his eyes with hers and said sombrely, "Serena, I…I understand what he's going through. He's come into a lot of responsibility, after your stepfather's death. Chuck wants to prove himself, feels that he _has_ to prove himself, to a lot of people. And while I haven't lost either of my parents…I definitely understand that feeling."

Serena glanced away from him, breathing in deep; his eyes darted down to her chest and flew back to her face before she turned back to him. "You do." It was a statement, and a sceptical one, but he heard in her voice a thread of hopeful longing: she wanted to believe him.

He smiled softly to show her that he understood. "Do _you_?"

Her lips curled up prettily into a startled smile, demonstrating how surprised she was that he'd been able to read her like that. "I guess we all do," she replied steadily, her tone neutral, but he didn't miss the sparkle in her eyes. "And what to you get out of this, Carter? Huh?" She bit her lower lip lightly. "Don't pretend you're such a good guy."

"Oh, like you pretend you're such a good girl?" he asked evenly, without missing a beat, his hand creeping a bit further up to rest on her thigh, fingers splayed against her bare skin.

She made no move to stop him. "I thought _I _was the one asking the questions here," she simply replied, raising one eyebrow pointedly before she turned and took the last sip of her martini.

Smoothly, Carter signalled to the bartender to get her another. "My apologies."

"Tell me. What's your motivation?"

"The same as Chuck's. The same as _yours_," he added knowingly, but his smirk fell away as he made eye contact with her again; something about the way she was looking at him made him feel mildly exposed as he confessed, "I'm looking to prove myself, too."

Serena took a sip of her new martini, thinking it over as she eyed him in her peripheral vision. "You gave me your word," she reminded him, a warning.

Lifting his free hand, he reached up to tuck a few stray strands of her hair behind her ear, trailing his fingers lightly down her neck after he was finished. She shivered slightly under his touch and he smirked. "Of course I did, beautiful."

She turned into his touch a bit, looking at him through heavy eyelashes. "Alright. Then…I'll help you."

His eyebrows flew up. "And how, exactly, are you going to do that?"

Serena shrugged, batting his hand off her leg and reaching for her purse. "You'll see," she replied easily, with a sing-song lilt to her voice, as she slipped off her stool and onto her feet. She teetered for just a second, and he reached out instinctively, his hands falling to her hips as he steadied her.

She laughed. "And now that you've gotten me drunk, I think it's your responsibility to find me a cab."

He smiled, unable to help it – her laughter was infectious, so sweet it was almost childish, and she smelled _ridiculously_ good, so close to him. "Fair enough."

Carter guided her outside with a hand at the small of her back and hailed her a cab after only a moment of standing together on the sidewalk. He paid the driver, more than enough to get her home and generous tip, and then stood back, holding the door open for her.

"What a gentleman," she commented softly. Then she stepped close, surprising him, her hand slipping into his and their fingers threading together at his side, her chest pressed to his and her lips just below his ear. "I was almost hoping you wouldn't be," she whispered, her breath hot against his neck.

He felt his heart thump as she pulled away, and he had to remind himself to let her hand go. She smiled at the look on his face and slipped into her taxi, pulling the door closed behind her.

Carter stood on the city sidewalk for a few minutes, watching the traffic even after her cab disappeared from sight, trying to make his smile turn into the smirk he was accustomed to wearing.

--

When Carter walked past Chuck Bass' protesting secretary the next morning and into the other man's office, he was mildly startled by what he walked in on.

Blair Waldorf, a girl he'd always heard described as someone who valued her reputation and her purity and her propriety, was pinned between a bookshelf and her boyfriend. Her hands were buried somewhere between their two bodies and her brown hair was mussed up and loose around her shoulders; her shirt was off and she was wearing only her bra and her high-waisted skirt, her eyes closed as Chuck – whose tie was on the floor, his shirt unbuttoned fully – pressed kisses down the column of her neck.

Carter cleared his throat slowly.

Blair's eyes opened, hazy with lust, and her gaze widened and sharpened instantly at the sight of him. "Chuck!" she cried sharply, one of her hands pushing at his shoulder and the other gripping his shirt.

He turned around, glaring instantly at the sight of Carter, pulling away from his girlfriend.

"Hard at work, I see," Carter said innocently, trademark smirk back in place.

"_Bazien_," Chuck growled, buttoning his shirt and lightning speed and tucking it back into his pants as he moved toward Carter, trying to appear menacing and block Blair from the other man's view all at once. "Don't we have security for riff-raff like this?" he asked, directing his growl past the door, and his secretary appeared behind Carter, looking both apologetically nervous and scandalized.

Carter held up his hands innocently. "I was simply here to discuss business. But clearly, you don't take that seriously."

"I don't take _you_ seriously," Chuck retorted, voice still low, and behind him Carter caught sight of Blair tucking her shirt back into her skirt as she slipped her feet into her shoes. "And I have absolutely _nothing_ to discuss with you. You should be out of the city by now."

"Really, I just want to talk –" Carter tried, forcing himself to adopt an earnest expression, but the only thing he received from Chuck in return was a sneer.

"Calm down, darling," Blair interrupted, her voice smooth, cold and hard as ice. She'd picked up Chuck's tie from the floor and draped it gently around her boyfriend's neck, folding the collar of his shirt over it.

"Blair," Carter greeted her warmly, too much familiarity in his voice. "So nice to…" His gaze slid down her body slowly, working its way up again before he finally met her eyes. "_See_ you."

Blair pressed her hand against Chuck's chest momentarily, shooting him a look that Carter couldn't comprehend. She turned to him, her smile forced. "Carter. I'll walk you out."

"What?" both men asked in unison, their expressions filled with the same surprise.

"I will walk him out," Blair repeated very clearly, shooting Chuck another look with a small, genuine smile slipped in. "Shall we?" she asked as she turned back to Carter, voice dripping with sarcasm. She didn't wait for a reply; simply strode out of the room, clearly expecting him to follow.

Knowing that he wouldn't get anywhere with Chuck and intrigued by Blair's offer, he could do nothing but turn and follow her.

Outside, in the lobby of the imposing building that housed Chuck's office, she spun on her heel and stopped, crossing her arms over her chest as she faced him. She'd attempted to pin up her hair again, but it was messy, pieces falling onto her shoulders, her cheeks and neck were flushed red, and her lipstick was smudged on her mouth.

"Bass Inc. is a very important corporation," she told him, as if it were news, speaking quickly, quietly, and seriously. "And since it has become _his_, Chuck has a very important job, one that he's taking very seriously."

Carter smirked at her. "_Clearly_."

She glared, but did not acknowledge his words, simply continuing with her speech: "This company is powerful, Carter. This _family_, the one you're toying with for whatever reason, is powerful." She took a step closer to him, speaking in an even softer tone. "Bass Inc. has its PIs, and Chuck has his own, as well. And you should be aware that they follow his family, and even more aware of the fact that you owe me _quite_ a bit of gratitude for intercepting the report that described just how close you and Chuck's _sister_ looked at a certain bar last night." Her eyebrows flew upward, daring him not to be surprised, daring him to contradict her.

"Well, well," he said slowly, trying to mask the fact that she'd shocked him. "You _are_ more than a pretty face, aren't you? I can see why Chuck likes you."

She plastered on the prettiest fake smile he had ever seen. "Chuck _loves_ me," she told him firmly, her eyes darkening as she added: "And though he would never admit it to anyone, he loves his family – including the girl you were with last night. I think it's pretty obvious that he does _not_ like you, not even remotely, so you can only imagine what his reaction if he found out what you were doing with Serena."

He shook his head. "Why are you down here doing his dirty work?" he inquired, eyes raking over her body again to imply that he'd already caught her at something _dirty_.

Blair gritted her teeth. "I'm doing you a _favour_, Baizen. I think you need to realize that, and you need to realize that I am _almost_ as angry with you as Chuck would be if he knew what I know." Carter's brow furrowed, but before he could ask questions, Blair snapped: "Serena is my _best friend_. I love her, but she's a little lost right now, dealing with some…stuff, and she tends to make mistakes when she gets like that. I will _not_ let you be the worst of those mistakes." She stepped even closer to him, tilting her chin upward. "Are we clear?"

He smirked down at her, leaning toward her a bit. "You know what's clear, Waldorf? That whatever _stuff_," he said, with a sarcastic laugh, "your _best friend_ is dealing with right now…you have no sweet clue in that pretty little head of yours what it is. And I'm willing to bet I'm going to know a hell of a lot sooner than you ever will."

"No!" Blair snapped, her eyes flashing threateningly, but petulance had slipped into her tone and she sounded like a little girl ready to stomp her foot. "You do _not_ get to use her and throw her away, you don't get to make her trust you when the last thing you deserve is that trust. I won't allow it, and neither will Chuck!"

"Newsflash…_darling_," he told her, addressing her the way she had just addressed her boyfriend in his office. "Her family _adores _me, and there's nothing you could say to change that, so you and Chuck might just get overruled this once. Besides, it's not your decision. Serena's a big girl. She can make her own choices. She'll do what she wants to do."

Blair took a step away. "Well, she won't be _doing_ you."

"Look," Carter said, exasperated. "You know nothing about me, or what I'm doing with Serena. You don't know that I'd be a…a mistake for her."

She scowled at him for a moment, and then her expression oh-so-slowly morphed until she was looking at him imploringly. "Don't do this. She doesn't deserve it, especially not right now. You don't know her."

The next words out of his mouth surprised him as much as they did Blair, soft and passionately earnest: "But I _want_ to."


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: **Thank you very much for all your feedback! Trust me on the ending of this one, alright? ;)

**Chapter Four**

_I__ like you to be exactly the way that you are, because in all my experience, I have never known anyone like you._

-- A Streetcar Named Desire

--

"I am going to _kill_ you."

Carter ground the words out between clenched teeth, having stumbled out of his bed and directly to the door to answer the knocking. He didn't know what time it was, but his head was aching and heavy (this problem had only been increased by the sound of knocking at his door) and his suite at the Downing was flooded with sunlight, which meant that he was forced to squint at the person across the threshold of the door.

"Will you, now?"

He blinked a couple extra times, forcing his eyes open only to see Serena van der Woodsen standing in front of him, looking fresh as a daisy in a ragged pair of denim shorts and a flowing blue shirt made of some sort of semi-sheer fabric, the colour of which made her eyes especially bright. She was looking at him amusedly, head tilted slightly to one side.

"Well…no," he said stupidly, rubbing at his head as he watched her eyes rake over his body in one smooth motion, taking in his low-slung sweatpants and bare chest, before she brushed right by him and into his suite. "I just…I thought you were Chuck, or room service, or…someone else disposable," he joked. "What _time_ is it?"

She didn't turn around to answer him; rather, she continued walking into his suite, almost cautiously, as though she expected someone to jump out at her any moment. Even as his eyes fought to adjust to the bright, natural light, he couldn't help but check out her ass in those Daisy-Duke-style shorts she was wearing. And though he could not see her face, he heard the amusement in her voice as she said, "It's two o'clock in the afternoon, Carter."

"Early," he muttered playfully, smiling a little when she whirled around to face him, her loose blonde hair settling onto her shoulders. He shrugged. "You can't have expected me to play the rules. My schedule's a little…unconventional."

"You sound like me," Serena remarked softly, a bit of bite slipping into her words as she added, "Two years ago."

He cracked a grin, blinking sleepily at her in what he was fairly certain was an adorable way as he crossed the room, closing some of the distance between them. "Being compared to sixteen-year-old you," he murmurs, as if it's a matter that requires deep reflection, "…I'm not sure if that's a compliment or an insult."

She poked his chest now that they were close enough to one another. "Being compared to me is _always_ a compliment, though you shouldn't be too happy about being compared to a high school girl."

Carter lifted one eyebrow. "Sounds like a paradox." He watched her eyes dart toward the bathroom and frowned. "Did you come here looking for someone _besides _me?"

Serena bit her lip, and, much to his surprise, blushed a bit. "No, I…I came to see you."

"Sit," he commanded, but gently, gesturing toward the leather couch in his suite's living room. He took a seat on the arm of the chair across from it, giving her a bit of space, and watched as she set down her buttery-leather purse and sat as well.

"I was…looking for the girl. In your hotel room," she admitted, meeting his eyes confidently, but her cheeks were a solid shade of pink. At his look of confusion, her eyes widened a bit and she lifted a hand to wave at his tousled appearance. "Don't look so clueless. You…have a reputation. If you can't get out of _bed_ before two p.m., what else are you up to?"

He chuckled and shook his head casually, but when he looked back at her he searched her eyes and assessed the way her hands were knotted together in her lap, looking for any signs of jealousy. "I'm a one-woman man, baby," he told her, dropping one eyelid in a wink.

Serena's back stiffened. "I'm not _yours_," she said, eyes flashing.

"Alright," he replied evenly, still chuckling, liking the sight of her when she was a little bit flustered. "But at this moment, _you_ happen to be the girl in my hotel room."

Startled, she looked over at him through her eyelashes before ducking her head a little – despite that movement, he saw her lips quirk up into a smile. "Touché," she commented quietly, folding her arms and resting her elbows on her lap, leaning forward.

Carter continued to watch her, his mouth suddenly a bit dry. He ground his back teeth together, feeling uncomfortable. Did she _intend_ for this position to allow him to look down her shirt?

"What, uh…brings you here, so early on a Sunday?"

Her eyes crinkled sweetly around the edges when she smiled. "It's _two o'clock_ in the afternoon."

"Technicalities, beautiful."

"I was…thinking about the conversation we had. The other night, at the bar."

Carter nodded, waiting for her to extrapolate.

"I…" Serena trailed off and pressed her lips together, straightening up and leaning back into the couch cushions. He breathed a quiet sigh, no longer distracted by the way her shirt had gaped a bit at the front.

"You?" he prompted after a moment of silence.

"If I'm doing something for you," she blurted out, "it's fair to ask that you to do something for me, right?"

He stood up and sank into the body of the chair he'd been perching on up until that point. Her voice was serious and her eyes were solemn, intense – but _shadowed_, somehow, eerily distant. It reminded him of that morning, after brunch, when he'd caught her in that private moment, staring out the window.

Blair Waldorf's words jumped into his mind. _She's a little lost right now_. His chest tightened the slightest bit and he told Serena softly, "Yes, that's completely fair."

She blinked rapidly, as if she was trying not to cry. "I need to trust you, though. I _really_ need to trust you."

"I gave you my word, didn't I?" He raised his eyebrows, but he kept his tone of voice gentle, reaching out to her.

Serena shook her head a little, standing up and stalking away from the couch, into the suite's kitchenette. Surprised, Carter got to his feet as well and trailed behind her, waiting to see what she would do.

She opened his miniature fridge and pulled out a bottle of water, unscrewing the top and taking a long drink, eyes closed. He took the moment to admire her fully, fluttering eyelashes and glossy pink lips, the way her throat tightened as she swallowed.

"Serena?"

"This is _crazy_." Her voice sounded a little smaller, and it made something strange, something like protectiveness, stir within him. "I _shouldn't_ trust you. Chuck doesn't, and Blair doesn't, and I can't find anyone who really does, but I –" She stopped short, their eyes locked.

"You what?" Carter asked her slowly, his voice huskier than it had been a moment ago.

"I think I need you," she murmured, and to her credit, her eyes did not leave his. "And it doesn't…make sense."

Carter smiled easily, but his heart was starting to pound. "I believe I admitted the other night that I just might need you, too."

"I don't know you. You don't know me!"

He shrugged. "I like the colour blue," he said casually, offering up a random fact about himself, but his gaze stayed fastened on her blue eyes.

She huffed – rather adorably, if he did say so himself. "That's not what I _mean_," she complained, "That's not what I mean at all. I just haven't seen any evidence, any kind of clues that tell me I should listen to you and not to Chuck."

"Maybe, Serena, your dear old brother _doesn't_ have your best interests at heart. Maybe his own interests take precedence." He watched her face carefully, trying to figure out what she really saying, attempting to find some sign that she'd ever had thoughts similar to the one he'd just voiced. He couldn't quite read her face and all the emotions she was fighting to keep hidden away, but he could see the soft blooms of pink across her cheekbones, and knew that she was aware that he'd been talking about her eyes, and just not a random colour, when he'd mentioned blue – and that she'd liked it.

Softening his tone by several degrees, he moved closer to her and reached out cautiously to touch her, his thumb tracing the line of her jaw. "What are you so afraid of? I _know_ you're not this worried about what _Chuck_ will think."

She looked away from him, clearly conflicted, but just as she had at the bar that night, she didn't give any indication that she wanted him to stop touching her. He was beginning to think she might want the physical contact as badly as he did, but that she was set on making him do the work. It felt like a bit of a challenge, and he was more than happy to accept it.

"I don't know you," Serena reiterated, and he heard the breaks in her voice, the way he was starting to get to her.

"So _get_ to know me, Serena," he told her firmly, as if it were that simple, his eyes focused unrelentingly on her face. "It should be obvious to us both by now that I want to know you."

She swallowed thickly; her shyness rested awkwardly over her features, an expression worn very rarely. "_Why_?"

Carter didn't know how to tell her that he wanted to know exactly what was causing the shadow in her eyes right now, that he wanted to know her well enough to fix whatever the problem was for her, that he wanted to whisk her away to anywhere and everywhere in the world, wanted to get lost from everyone but her. So he shrugged, allowing himself a small smirk.

"You're beautiful," he offered, unable to keep the slightest bit of awe out of his voice, because there was something indescribable about her that he had never seen in any other woman, something that captured and kept his attention.

Her eyes narrowed despite the compliment, and he understood it, the way she backed away from him a bit and shook her head. He was expecting it, even – it wasn't anything close to the answer she wanted to hear. It was easy to tell, from the way she acted, the way she carried herself, that she didn't think of herself as some pretty girl, and she didn't want anyone to be attracted to her for something she had no control over, something she tried to play down.

Smoothly, he moved close to her again, catching her around the waist, his hands settling on her hips. "But I want to know…" he murmured, "I want to know _everything_ else that you are."

Serena froze in his arms, her fingertips resting lightly on his chest, her eyes wide and flickering over his face. She reached down slowly and batted his hands away from her body, as if his touch had burned her.

"You don't trust me," he said slowly. She shouldn't, she couldn't, and she didn't.

The split-second look she gave him was heart-wrenching, intense enough to steal all the air from the room: she _wanted_ to trust him, she was trying so hard, both wanted to and _needed _to trust him…but she didn't know how to, not yet. He wondered who had stolen away her ability to rely on someone else. For such a confident, impulsive girl, she just could not commit to this, to him.

She fixed her mask, reined all of her emotions back in, settled her face back into a mask. "I need to find someone," she said calmly, but her words were rushed.

"Alright."

"And it's not…it's not going to be easy. I've been trying to find…this person for a while, and I'm not getting anywhere. I need…I need help. I need PIs – _not_ Bass Inc.'s, not Chuck's. I need to do this in a way that doesn't involve Chuck knowing anything at all. I can't take this to any of my friends, or to my family. They can't know."

Carter nodded slowly. "So you need me."

"Please," she added softly, then tilted her chin up a little and added, "And I'll help you, of course, if you help me."

_I'd help you either way. I'd help you no matter what_. He cleared his throat. "Sounds fair." He arched an eyebrow. "I guess every decision in your life doesn't go through Chuck, then?"

Relaxing a bit, she rolled her eyes. "_No_ decisions in my life go through Chuck. He just has stalkers on speed-dial that he knows all about my decisions anyway."

"But you don't want him to know about us." She blinked at him and he quickly amended, "I mean, this. Us, helping one another."

She shifted her weight a little. "Well. He'll have to know about…some of it. But not that we're helping each other, no."

Carter laughed lightly, shaking his head. "I think you're going to have to outline the whole plan for me, Serena. I'm feeling a little lost."

Her lips quirked up into a sweet smile. "Story of my life," she murmured, sarcastically and casually, but he took the words and stowed them away for safekeeping: the first real secret she'd ever tell him.

He wanted to touch her so badly.

"But you'll do it?" she asked quietly. "We'll help each other?"

He forced himself to pay attention to what she was saying, not the look of her lips or her legs. "Does this mean you trust me?"

Serena looked startled, and she frowned – her bottom lip poked out in something much closer to a pout. "Why are you so _stuck_ on that?" she shot back at him, trying to deflect the question.

Taking a couple steps closer to her, he chuckled. "Because you clearly don't. Is it really just Chuck's opinion? Does it have something to do with the person you're looking to find?"

She stopped looking at him instantly, her gaze fixed to the right and on the floor. "It has to do with the fact that you're incapable of staying in one place for any longer than it suits you to." She met his eyes again. "I've heard what my grandmother says about you."

"I believe your grandmother also said that I'd _risen like a phoenix from the ashes_," he reminded her, smirking boastfully. "Which translates to meaning that I have _changed_."

"You have _not_," she snapped back, but her eyes were light and bright.

"Well, then, maybe it's about time I did, don't you think?" His gaze fell to her lips again, he couldn't help it. "And who better to change for?"

She pushed at his chest a little, forcing his eyes fly up to lock with hers once again. "Don't _sweet-talk_ me. That's not what this is."

"If you say so."

"_Carter_."

Holding up his hands in surrender, he tried not to dwell on the way on the way she said his name. "As you wish," he promised her playfully. "No sweet-talk. And I'll stay."

The mirth faded out of her smile, and out of the room, as they stood there for a long moment, just looking at one another.

"Okay," she finally said shakily, when she couldn't take the silence anymore. "We'll…do this."

"Your enthusiasm is overwhelming," he said dryly. "Please, have _less_ confidence in this endeavour. Whatever the hell it is."

Her blue eyes were stormy. "Look," she snapped, "my confidence in us – in _this_," she quickly corrected herself, "has nothing to do with…anything. Either you agree, and we move ahead, or you don't, and this was a waist of my morning."

Carter tapped his wrist, pointing to an imaginary watch. "It's _afternoon_," he reminded her.

To his surprise, her eyes flashed and flooded with tears. _Shit_. "Stop," she said tightly.

"Serena –"

"I'll go," she said angrily, almost like a threat, but she made no move to leave.

He smirked, just the slightest bit. "No, you won't."

"You clearly don't –"

"No," he cut her off. "What is _clear_ here is that _you_ don't trust me. But that's fine. I'm in, Serena. I don't know what you're planning, and I don't know what it's going to cost me, and I don't know what it's going to mean for the two of us together, but I know…that I'm in."

She gave him a look that would've been entirely dubious had her eyes not been filled with hope. "And you're fine with it? Me, not trusting you?" she questioned him mutedly.

"Yes." His answer was decisive. "I am. You don't trust me right now, but you _will_."

He was frustrating her, he could see it in the way her feet very nearly stomped as she moved to stand closer to him, ready to argue.

"You can't know –"

"I do," he said, calm and collected.

"How?"

"I just…I _know_, Serena."

"But what makes you so _sure_?" she demanded heatedly, her voice heavy with something close to desperation, her blue eyes wet and shining.

Carter reached for her before he could stop himself, an arm slipping around her waist with ease. It was impossible to ignore the perfect way she fit against him when their bodies collided; she was still looking at him, breathing shallowly, and he lost all of his resolve to give this, _them_, time.

He kissed her.

It didn't feel like a first kiss, wasn't tentative and explorative but clashing, hard and passionate, their tongues duelling as her hands gripped at him. She tasted so good, and felt so right, and made this little sound at the back of her throat that had him fighting off thoughts of how very close his bedroom was.

He had no idea what that kiss was if not proof.

"_Carter_…" She was shaking a little bit when she pulled away from him, breathless and looking at him dazedly. Her back was still pressed up against the counter, her hands still on his back, her eyes half-closed.

He tucked her hair out of her face more tenderly than he ever did anything, his hand slipping beneath her shirt at her hip. "What is it, beautiful?"

Serena looked at him so trustingly, for the first time ever and what he prayed would not be the last, that it took his breath away for a split second, made him eager to do anything for her, to be worthy of the weight of her gaze. Her dark blue eyes clashed with his and her tongue darted out of her mouth, moistening her lips.

"I need you to propose to me," she said.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: **Thank you so much for your feedback! :)

**Chapter Five**

_No matter what you think you think, you think the same as I think_.

-- Adam's Rib

--

He stared back at her for a beat, a stunned silence settling between them. They were both breathing audibly, and Serena was still looking at him with those ocean-blue eyes, filled with infinite hope.

Taking a deep breath, he managed to smirk. "I, uh…I'm sorry, but I don't have a ring."

Much to his relief, she laughed, breathy and sweet, and leaned into him a bit. Her forehead pressed against his shoulder and she murmured, "I'm sorry, I meant to suggest that more…rationally."

Carter smiled as his hand settled at the small of her back, keeping her close to him. "It's okay if I distract you," he said quietly against her hair.

"Shut up," she mumbled, pulling away, but she was smiling.

He brushed her hair out of her face, tucking it behind her ear and letting his hand linger against her cheek. "You want to _marry_ me?"

Her skin was hot under his fingertips. "For good reasons," she insisted, "for both of us. It's…a business deal."

It wasn't. He couldn't _marry_ this girl and not get emotionally involved. Carter Baizen had long ago perfected the art of doing _many_ things without letting his emotions interfere, but he knew this would be an impossibility.

"You're seventeen years old, Serena," he told her gently, and felt the pang of it in his own chest, _too young_. "I can't marry you. Not yet," he added, a bit more softly.

"You _can_," she insisted stubbornly, but a bit of vulnerability slipped into her voice as she said, "If you want to, I mean."

She was adorable, and infuriating, the way she was so emphatic and yet shyly tip-toeing around the subject. "And how's that?" he asked her, unable to resist knowing more.

"Parental consent," she told him smoothly. "My mother likes you and my grandmother _adores_ you – it shouldn't be all that difficult."

He shook his head, forcing himself to be logical. "Regardless, they won't want you to get married so young. They won't allow it."

"But if I'm _absolutely_ in _love_ with you…" she said softly, her eyelashes fluttering prettily, "then why wait?"

For just an instant he abandoned all efforts to be logical and believed her words, felt them swell up within him – his body practically _tingled_, for god's sake. But then he snapped himself out of it, refused to drown in her eyes, and gave her an admiring once-over instead, unable to stop himself. "Serena van der Woodsen," he said slowly, "you are far more devious than you are ever given credit for."

She winked, looking a little bit proud. "Sometimes it works to your advantage when no one knows," she purred.

"How is this idea of yours going to help me?" He frowned as he added, "How is it supposed to help _you_?"

"Chuck will have to work with you. It's not exactly going to be great PR for his first-ever major project if he refuses to work with his brother-in-law."

Carter nodded thoughtfully. "True…"

"And even if Chuck doesn't agree," Serena rushed on, "it's not like he has all of the say in the company. He's still seventeen, like me; my mother holds the majority of the power in Bass Inc., though she's been willing to let Chuck take the reins thus far. But if you're part of the family…she could override Chuck's decisions and hire you."

Looking into her bright eyes, his stomach flipped a little when she said _family_, so casually, so ready to adopt him into her life. "You make good points, beautiful," he told her quietly.

"But if…that's not how you want to do things, if you really _are_ being honest about earnestly wanting to prove yourself just like Chuck wants to…well, if you can convince me of that, I think I can convince him."

He lifted one eyebrow. "You can convince Chuck," he repeated sceptically.

Serena tilted her head, examining his expression. "I think you underestimate our relationship."

Carter couldn't help but laugh. "I don't think that's where my misunderstanding lies," he assured her, thinking of the fierce look in Chuck's eyes when he had informed Carter that Serena was his sister. He scrutinized her face and grinned. "Chuck Bass is a _softie_, deep down, isn't he?"

She giggled. "In some ways. Probably ways that you will never be witness to. But that's not it, it's just – I get him. I think I could make this work for you, for both of you."

"Baby, Chuck and I haven't gotten along in a _long_ time. That's going to be something that's going to be incredibly difficult to change now, especially on his end; however, you should keep in mind that I'm not his biggest fan, either."

Serena was pouting at him, wide eyes and her bottom lip poking out. "Don't call me _baby_," she said firmly, her eyes narrowing.

"No?" he smirked. "Shouldn't I be allowed to be affectionate with my _fiancée_?" he asked, arms encircling her and pulling her toward him; he daringly slipped his fingers up her shirt a bit to tickle her.

"Stop!" She batted his hands away, barely managing to hold onto her frown. He could see, from the way her eyes glittered, that she wasn't genuinely upset with him. "It's a _business deal_."

"Alright. It's a business deal."

"Don't be patronizing."

"I was _agreeing_." He scowled. "Can we get back to the topic at hand, please?"

"Fine, _honey_," she shot back. "My point is that I think I can convince Chuck to at least _tolerate_ you. The two of you will have some common ground."

"Common ground?"

"Me," Serena said, as if it was obvious. "And once the two of you see that you can come to agreements regarding _one_ thing, it shouldn't be so hard for that cooperative sentiment to extend to other things. Such as your work."

Carter couldn't help but smile. "And what about me tolerating Chuck, how is _that_ going to happen?"

Her eyes skimmed over his body before landing back on his face. "I'm sure…as your wife…I could find some way of convincing you." She blinked, daring him to call her out on her innuendo.

He grinned wolfishly. "Oh, I'm _sure_ you could."

"So…"

"Not so fast," he told her, shaking his head. "This makes some sense, for me. But what about for _you_? In what way is marrying me of any help to you?"

She blew out her breath. "Look. Chuck's habit of interfering in my personal affairs isn't exactly…unfounded. I do things sometimes that aren't…" She trailed off and began again. "But he just knows _everything_ and he doesn't trust _anything_, and now that he is basically the head of a business empire, there's just no way of fooling him. But I think you could. I think I could, with your help."

"And in what way does he need to be fooled?"

"He just…can't know. About this person that I'm looking for. It's important that _no one_ knows, especially not my brothers."

"Ah, yes. Who is this mysterious person?"

"I can't tell you," she whispered. "Not…not yet."

"So, when do I find out? After the honeymoon?"

"_Carter_."

"I'm being serious, Serena. You're offering to help me, you're asking for my help, you're proposing an engagement, but you won't tell me what your goal in all of this is?"

"It's not dangerous," she promised.

He chuckled lowly. "I'm not your big brother, beautiful. That isn't my concern."

"So just help me!"

"Not until you tell me."

She crossed her arms. "I _will_ tell you. I just need a little time."

"You can _marry_ me but you can't tell me the name of…whoever it is?"

"You say that like we're…_getting married_."

He laughed. "I'm sorry, was that not the whole idea?"

"Yes, but not…like _that_. Not conventionally. It's a business deal, Carter. There's nothing emotional between us."

It didn't escape his attention, the way she couldn't meet his eyes. "There's not?"

Serena looked up at him, suddenly weary. "That's not the point and you know it."

"So that kiss –"

"Carter," she cut him off, and he couldn't ignore the way her eyes said _please_, so he dropped it.

"Fine. But answer me this – we convince your family, somehow, that this is a good idea, we get married. You find whoever it is you're looking for; I complete this business deal with Chuck. And then what? We get divorced?" He stepped a little closer to her, his eyes boring into hers. "Is that your plan? Because, you know, I'm very easy to get attached to. It wouldn't be fair to let your family or _yourself, _for that matter, fall in love with me and then throw me out of your life."

A smile was playing on her lips. "I'm not going to fall in love with you."

He pressed his lips to her cheek and spoke with his lips still close to her cheek, smirking knowingly when she shivered a little. "I wouldn't be so sure of that."

She tugged away from him.

"Is that what happens, then?" he pressed her, "We accomplish everything, and then we end our marriage?"

Her chin quivered the slightest bit, and he could see the way she longed to say _yes, that's exactly what will happen_. But he also knew that she couldn't say that. Not after that kiss; he knew that it had changed something between them and that she'd felt it, too.

"Let's just…deal with it when we get to it, okay?" she sighed.

"Alright." That gave him plenty of time to change her mind. He extended a hand to her.

She looked down at it, and then back up at him.

"Let's go, Serena."

"Where?"

"Shopping," he told her, reaching out and grasping her hand in his own before she could stall any longer. "It seems that I need to buy you a ring."

--

"_You're crazy_," Serena whispered into the fabric of his pale blue button-down shirt, her face tucked into his shoulder and her hand gripping his tightly as they walked through the doors of Tiffany & Co. Her hair was still down, shielding her face, and she had worn a ridiculously large pair of sunglasses outside and had skirted from his limo to the door of the store in milliseconds, not wanting to be spotted by her peers for fear that she'd end up on some website of some sort. He'd taken it in stride, chuckling at her.

He chuckled. "_I'm_ crazy? This, from the girl who proposed to me days after we first met."

"Business. Deal," she hissed back, the words separated and enunciated perfectly to enforce her point.

"Whatever you say, sweetheart," he replied, smiling at the saleswoman who was looking at them with a smile of her own. "Even my _fake_ wife needs the best ring possible."

She sent him the briefest of frowns, aware that they were being watched, before glancing around with bright eyes. Serena could argue with him all she wanted, but what girl didn't want _the_ engagement ring? This, he knew, was the place to find it.

She gasped quietly as he steered her toward one of the displays. "Wait. When you see the best ring, do you mean _the_ ring?"

He nodded calmly. "Yes, I do."

"_Carter_," she hissed, still wearing her smile and letting herself get mildly distracted by the slew of diamonds displayed in front of her. "_The Tiffany Setting ring costs up to…Forty. Thousand. Dollars."_

"You could speak at a normal speed and I'd still get your point, beautiful," he chuckled, pressing a kiss to her jaw. He'd realized very quickly that ring-shopping with her was going to be _fun_; while buying an engagement ring she couldn't exactly act like they weren't together.

And she'd apparently realized the same thing, though a little too late. "I should've pretended to be your sister or the bride's best friend or _something_. Carter, you _cannot_ spend all kinds of money on me, we just met. And didn't your parents disown you or something?"

"You don't need to worry about that."

"I wasn't expecting you to do this, you don't _have_ to. Or at least – buy me a _small_ ring. I don't need – "

"You know, for someone who regards marriage as a _business_ arrangement, you sure know a lot about this ring."

She scowled deeply. "It's Blair's fault. She's kind of obsessed with this place. But Carter –"

He cut her off, catching the eye of one of the many silent salespeople and pointing to a ring. "That one."

"Congratulations," the woman said as she walked over, smiling benevolently at them. "Weren't sure of her ring size?" she asked knowingly.

He wrapped an arm around Serena's waist. "She's too much of a perfectionist to let me pick," he joked with a wink.

Serena sent him a quick glare that turned playful in an instant when the saleslady handed over the ring and let Carter slip it onto Serena's finger.

She took a sharp breath. "That's…beautiful," she admitted quietly, studying it, and he saw the briefest spark of panic (_is this really a good idea?_) in her eyes before it faded into something remarkably similar to longing.

Gently, he slipped his fingers beneath hers, causing her hand to rise a little so that he could get a better look at it. He touched the band and she shifted a little, uncomfortable, causing his hand to move a little lower on her hip.

"Is it a little loose?" he inquired, keeping his voice even, and the saleslady bustled about murmuring words that he was not really paying attention to. Serena was still distracted by the ring on her finger, so he capitalized on the opportunity, moving his hand from her hip and slipping it in the back pocket of her jeans.

The look she gave him was scolding, but it didn't say _back off_, so he smirked at her and pushed his chances, leaning in to press a kiss – much more chaste and gentle than the previous one they shared that morning – to her mouth.

And the blush painting her cheeks and dancing over her collarbone when she pulled away, it made him want to grin like some thirteen-year-old with a crush.

The saleslady gave him another ring, still smiling at them as if they were the cutest couple she'd ever seen, and he noticed Serena's hand shake a little as he slid it up her finger.

"What do you think, baby?" he asked softly, close to her ear.

Serena blew out a shaky breath. "Perfect fit."

"And do you like it?"

"I –" She stopped there and shook her head, meeting his eyes and not looking away.

"Speechlessness is generally a good sign," the saleslady contributed in a quiet voice. "Perhaps your fiancé has better taste than you thought he did, dear; he seems to have gotten it right on the second pick."

"Maybe I have good impulses," he agreed huskily, but he was speaking solely to Serena, his eyes still locked with hers.

It was Serena who broke the staring match, her eyes settling back on the ring in something close to awe. He smiled and nuzzled his nose against the side of her head, gently kissing her temple. "Is that your ring, beautiful?" he asked her; _am I yours_?

He found the answer (_yes_) even in the silence, slipped the hand in her back pocket out and cupped her elbow with it instead, directing her body closer to his, using his other hand to grasp her left.

"Marry me," he said quietly, as if they were alone, letting everything else fade away. And to his surprise, the word did not feel strange on his tongue or sound odd when his ears picked them up. They just _were_, and he craved her answer.

Serena smiled, her eyes sparkling, and wrapped her arms around his neck, the cool band of her ring pressing lightly against his skin. She leaned in, and just a breath away from his lips, murmured sweetly, "A thousand times yes."

Maybe she meant it to sound mocking, but he was sure it didn't, and that suspicion was only confirmed when she kissed him.

Carter was not always the world's best businessman, but he did know this to be true: business deals were sealed with signatures on paper, not lips meeting.

--

"Can I pay _half_?" she asked optimistically, skipping a couple steps ahead of him, spinning around so that she was walking right in front of him and moving backward.

Automatically, he glanced behind her, making sure there was nothing she was in danger of tripping over in her path. "_No_, Serena," he said absently.

"But –"

He jogged ahead, catching her by wrapping an arm securely around her waist and pressing his mouth to hers to silence her.

"Mm," she murmured, allowing herself to kiss him back for a moment before pulling back. He could see it in the way she was blinking a bit dazedly; she was trying to force herself not to let him divert her train of thought. "Stop that," she said sternly.

"No." He kissed her again, grinning against her lips, their teeth accidentally knocking together. "I've changed my mind," he said, adding between kisses, "You can…pay me back…like _this_."

She pulled away, skin flushed. "That's not part of the deal."

Carter shook his head fondly. "This isn't just a deal." Before she could protest, he continued, "Maybe you can't trust me and maybe this is all a scheme you've come up with…but you _like_ me, Serena. Admit it," he dared her, "you find me _intriguing_. Attractive. _You_ kissed me back in _Tiffany's_. You think I'm –"

She scoffed, moving away from him and cutting him off, "You wish."

"Maybe I do."

She slowed down a little, making it easy for him to catch up with her, and shot him a coy smile over her shoulder. "Shut up and drink your coffee, Carter," she sighed, affection seeping into her words, unbidden.

For a few minutes he did as told and they walked in relative silence, wandering lazily through Central Park and sipping coffee from styrofoam cups. He was aware of Serena peeking at him in her peripheral vision, but he waited for her to speak, giving her some time.

"Is this a date?"

He smirked, incredulous. "Oh, I'm sorry. Are we moving too fast? I just figured, what with the whole _engagement_ idea –"

"Business!"

"Right." He rolled his eyes.

"This _isn't_ a date. But it would be okay if it…looked like one." She glanced around, eyes skimming over the faces of everyone near them.

"Who are you looking for?"

"Someone between fourteen and eighteen years of age with a camera phone." She reached down between them, threading her fingers through his. "It would probably make sense if people think we're dating rather than us getting engaged out of the blue."

"You think?" he asked dryly, letting her drag him along. He had the feeling he'd follow her anywhere. "Serena, may I make a suggestion?"

"Mm-hm," she agreed, not really listening.

He squeezed her hand, forcing her to look at him and slow down a bit to match her pace. "We could _actually_ date, you know. And you could learn to trust me and fall _madly_ in love with me. And later, in the future, we could get married. Somehow that just seems logical to me."

"Flaws."

"Excuse me?" he asked, lifting his eyebrows.

"I see flaws in your plan," she clarified. "The first being that I will never fall madly in love with you; the second – and perhaps more important – being that by the time I learn to trust you I'll be twenty years older and Chuck's business plans will have thrived _without_ your assistance."

Carter ignored the second part of her statement. "Why would it be so hard to fall madly in love with me?"

"Because! You are thoroughly unpredictable and unreliable – "

"Rumours, Serena," he reminded her gently.

"And you drive me _crazy_, already," she said pointedly, speaking over his interruption. "Even _if_ there was something between us, it would take years to –"

"I could wait years, with you," he said solemnly, his eyes fixed on her face.

"You don't _know_ me. You definitely don't love me. And maybe you'd be willing to wait, but I'm _not_! What happens ten years in the future, you disappear from my life and everything falls apart and I have to do this _again_, hire PI's and feel like –" She blew out her breath, frustrated. "I'm tired of _waiting_," she said, suddenly sounding dangerously close to crying. "I can't do it again."

He watched emotions flit through her eyes carefully. "I'd never do that to you."

"We've covered this already," she told him thickly, breathing in deep. "I don't trust you enough for those words to mean anything."

"But you trust me in some way, don't you?" he inquired softly. "You must, if you trust me enough to help you with…whatever this is."

"I'm helping you _back_. It's an exchange."

"Serena –"

"Carter!" She took another deep breath and reached toward him with her free hand, gripping the fabric of his sleeve lightly. "I just need to get _married_, okay?"

"You could marry anyone."

"You have better resources. A reputation. You and me, we'd demand attention."

He smirked softly. "You do that all on your own, beautiful."

Serena's eyes were wet. "Not always," she whispered, letting go of his shirt.

"Listen to me," he began quietly, determined to find out what her goals were in their little arrangement, but he never got the chance to finish.

"Serena?" a delighted, familiar voice called, and they both looked toward the direction from which it had come.

Blair Waldorf was wearing a pale green dress and a pretty smile, her face having lit up at the sight of her best friend. It only took two steps toward them for her smile to fade and her eyes to narrow; she slowed her pace considerably and it took Carter a moment to figure out why: she was waiting for Chuck to join her, to reach for her hand and regard Serena and Carter with an equally displeased expression.

Serena's grip on his hand tightened.


End file.
